


Aurora

by MellytheHun



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Kelpies, M/M, Monster of the Week, Oral Sex, Protective Derek, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A birthday gift to my tumblr friend who request NSFW hypothermia fic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aurora

“Wh-why is it alway-ays me?” Stiles stammers, trying and failing to peel off his frigid, dripping clothes inside the car. His numb fingers manage to only pluck and slip over his clothes uselessly.  


Derek turns the heat on very low, unsure of what might send Stiles into shock. He shuts the doors to the sleet outside and helps Stiles’ shaking hands get beneath his plastered jacket and jeans.

Stiles’ naked skin is pallid with the exception of blotches of dark pink spaced out from his face, down his entire torso. His breaths are quick, shallow and his lips are tinted with blue. 

“M-my life is s-so embarrassing.”  


Derek shakes his head, his brow is furrowed.

_He’s angry_ , Stiles realizes, _he’s angry with me_.

While he’s watching Derek pull his own sticky clothes off, he worries he’s closer to death than he feels. The only times Derek has been this focused has been when he’s in the process of saving Stiles’ skin. 

“A-am I dying?”  


The fear of dying, quivering like a leaf in the back of Derek’s car is so sobering that he doesn’t even get to appreciate watching Derek get naked. (Which is a particular pity, because since graduating high school, Stiles has half-convinced himself that he might just get to see that in a casual setting if he played his cards right)

“ _No_ ,” Derek says, like it’s an argument, “Your heart rate is slow, though.”  


“It feels w-weird,” Stiles slurs, noticing something like a squirming sensation in his chest.  


“My mother once told me that if I were ever shot with a wolfsbane bullet, to do anything but panic.”  


Stiles’ eyes are a little lidded, staring at Derek’s naked torso as he comes to cover Stiles with his body. He looks concentrated on aligning as much of himself with Stiles as he can, lowering himself over Stiles’ sprawled body in the backseat. His body is wet too, but the water is warm. His body runs so hot when he shifts, it’s like a fever and the water that’s made Stiles’ body icy is practically turning to steam on Derek’s.

“She said panic makes your heart beat faster, makes the poison spread faster.”  


Stiles cocks a brow at him and Derek finally looks up into his eyes and finishes,

“So don’t panic. It’ll just kill you faster.”  


“G-gee, Derek,” Stiles mumbles, “you always know exactly what to say.”  


“Well, I’m sorry if this isn’t panning out to be the romantic evening you had planned with whatever you jumped in the fucking water for,” Derek snarks, rolling his eyes.  


“I didn’t-t _jump_ in -”  


“I’m not even going to argue with you about this,” Derek sighs out, in a way that means he will absolutely argue with him about it, “After all the lectures you gave me about spotting a Kelpie disguise and I find _you_ drowning -”

“Don’t-t yell at me, I’m dying,” Stiles complains.  


Derek gives him a dry look, but there is concern glistening his eyes. He sighs and relaxes more against Stiles, putting down more of his warm weight. He’s nose-to-nose with Stiles like this and that’s got Stiles’ body _wanting_ to warm up. 

“I thought Alaska would be i-interesting,” Stiles comments.  


“What about Alaska is interesting besides the Kelpie infestation?” Derek asks curiously.  


Stiles smiles, tilts his head just so that he can look Derek in the eye without going cross-eyed. The heat is spreading slowly, but it’s thick and high and, at first it gives Stiles a bad case of chills, but then it starts to even out. He tucks his arms in so that they’re between his and Derek’s chest. He gets a little distracted with the rasp of Derek’s chest hair against his wrists.

“Polar Aurorae, b-bruh,” Stiles smirks, “I wasn’t gonna let you hunt Kelpies on your own and e-enjoy the majesty of the n-northern lights by your lonesome.”  


Derek rolls his eyes like he couldn’t possibly care less.

“It’s just a bunch of glowing electrons in the sky. There’s nothing majestic about it.”  


“A-always killing the magic,” Stiles smiles fondly, “Y-you know, they used to believe the lights w-were from the spirit realm. Like, w-warriors and shit. The lights a-are sometimes accompanied by crackling sounds and people u-used to think that it was them trying to break through.”  


Stiles stops talking because he gets flustered with the way Derek is looking at him. He’s fairly accustomed to people trying to shut him up, pretty used to the blank look in their eyes that indicates they’ve stopped listening. The only other person that really listens to him is Scott, but he’s never felt like this when Scott listens to him. The way Derek looks so intently at him, the way his eyes flicker back and forth between Stiles’ - like he _cares_ about what Stiles is saying - it makes his toes curl pleasantly.

“What were you doing in the water, Stiles?”  


Stiles looks away, feeling shamed.

Derek sighs.

“Stiles - you almost drowned.”  


“I _know_ ,” Stiles bites, “I was there.”  


“If I hadn’t heard you scream before it took you under, you wo -”  


“I _kn-know_ ,” Stiles interrupts, “Okay? I _know_.”  


Derek frowns, his brows curving in confusion and aggravation.

“Well? What the Hell did the Kelpie look like? How could it have fooled you? We’re alone out here and you’re smarter than to be deceived by a naked Lydia posed in a giant rose petal, so what the Hell did -”  


“It was _you_ , okay?” Stiles confesses angrily, face getting hot and tears prickling behind his eyes that are focused on the roof of the car, “It looked like _you_ , asshole.”  


Derek’s face falls and shifts into surprise.

“But…”  


Stiles doesn’t fill the silence. He still won’t meet Derek’s eyes.

“The Kelpie takes on the image of your deepest d-”  


“I _know_ , Jesus _Christ_ , Derek,” Stiles swears in frustration.  


He shuts his eyes, trying to keep the wave of embarrassment from swallowing him up. He sees in his mind’s eye, _reaching the edge of the lake and seeing Derek there, knee-deep in the water. He turned around and saw Stiles, relief evident all over his face._

_“Stiles!”  
_

_Stiles met him in the shallow water and crawled into the heat of Derek’s jacket to protect him from the downpour. He smiled as Derek’s arms came around him._

_“You had me scared.”  
_

_Stiles’ heart had thumped, “why?”_

_“I just saw the Kelpie - it went under,” Derek had said, pulling away from Stiles to look him in the eye, “I thought… I thought it had you.”  
_

_Stiles smiled weakly and offered, “I’m alright, Big Guy. Let’s, uh, not get separated again, okay?”_

_Derek nodded and said, “I have to go after it. It’s still in the shallow pool - I have to go after it before it goes too deep.”_

_Just as Derek turned away, Stiles had grabbed his hand and said loudly, over the sleet coming down, “don’t leave me out here!”_

_Then Derek’s eyes had changed. His pupils turned into horizontal dashes, the color of his irises filled even the white of his eyes and with a mouth full of fangs, he replied,_

_“I don’t plan to.”  
_

_When Stiles went to tug his hand away, the Kelpie’s hand was too tight around him and right before he was dragged under the surface of the water, he screamed out for Derek at the top of his lungs._

_He was under water for almost two minutes._

_Then Derek - the **real** Derek - came diving headfirst into the water, half-shifted, desperate and racing. At that point, Stiles could hear his heartbeat in his ears, he could feel the pressure in his head, begging to kill him. He was almost immediately relieved when he saw Derek in the water. He was losing spots in his vision when Derek worked him free from the Kelpie, so he’s not entirely sure now how that happened._

_The next thing he knew he was out in the snow, coughing up water and gasping for air and shaking violently. Derek shifted into his full beta form and carried Stiles through the woods back to the car at top speed and Stiles knew he’d ask._

He knew Derek would want to know what form the Kelpie took.

Stiles himself thought that if he actually found the Kelpie, it would take on the form of either Derek or his mother. His mother - he would’ve known right away. He would have known it was a deception. The Kelpie was smarter than that and Stiles was foolish enough to trust an illusion of leather and dark lashes.

“You know this is real, right?”  


That grabs Stiles’ attention, so he looks at Derek again.

Derek looks worried.

“I’m real. You’re real - this isn’t a dream. Are you - I mean -”  


Stiles realizes that Derek is worried the Kelpie’s deception may have triggered him. A tear slips out of the corner of one of his eyes and he shakes his head,

“No, I - I know. I know this is real, I’m really - I’m fine.”  


Derek searches his face for a while, not looking completely convinced.

“I haven’t lost time or touch with reality in a few years now. It’ll take more than a demented Kelpie’s sour wolf imitation to break my streak.”  


Derek nearly smirks and that helps to calm Stiles down a little. He’s able to take in the warmth of the car - the dry, heated air has helped to stop him from dripping, Derek’s weight has soothed the tremors away and Derek’s body heat has reignited his own. His hair is still wet and he can nearly feel the chill of his wet clothes at the floor of the car, but he’s pretty distracted with Derek’s eyes; too much so to concentrate on much else.

“Do you want me?”  


Stiles feels his face fill with blood and his heartbeat isn’t back to ‘normal,’ but it’s doing a lot better than ten minutes ago.

“What?”  


Derek readjusts himself, his eyes downcast on Stiles’ and Stiles’ are looking up into Derek’s, round and focused. 

“Do you want me, Stiles?”  


His heart is twisting around and speeding up, his stomach goes weightless like he’s on a roller coaster or in free fall. 

“Does it matter?” Stiles asks.  


Derek nods, but says nothing.

As soon as Stiles’ whispers, “yes,” Derek’s mouth is on his, swallowing the last hiss of it and turning it into a moan. Stiles grabs onto Derek’s back, that sensation of free fall coming over him again. He rolls up into Derek and groans, delighted and shocked when Derek rolls back against him. Stiles’ blood is hot again and it feels like there’s too much of it.

It floods his face and pools in his crotch, but it’s making his chest hot too, making his hands and ears tingle excitedly and his stomach is left with none, ticklish and light. 

Derek’s scruff adds this frustratingly charming bite to his kisses and he kisses Stiles like it’s as natural as breathing, like it’s a song he’s singing, like it could save his life. The sleet outside the car is coming down hard and the car is quickly getting hot - the cool water in Stiles’ hair now a relief rather than a pain. He shivers with pleasure when Derek groans against him at feeling Stiles’ cock twitch, full of blood. Derek reaches down between them and adjusts himself so that they’re aligned.

Stiles lets out a little gasp when he feels the promising weight of Derek’s cock fall against his pubic bone. He breaks the kiss, his head is pleasantly fuzzy, every fiber of every part of his body highly alert. 

“You - what are you -”  


“Do you want this?”  


“Oh my God,” Stiles moans.  


Derek’s voice is all rugged and his pupils are blown, his hair is mussed, his face is tinted red and his lips are dark and swollen. 

_Of course_ Stiles wants this, how could he not?

“Yes - that means _yes_ ,” Stiles explains, a bit frantic, a bit out of breath, “Yes - yes, yes.”  


Derek smiles sweetly, like he’s been waiting to hear that for centuries, like a dream of his is coming true and just the thought of that melts Stiles’ heart. He rakes a hand through Derek’s hair and Derek turns his face more towards Stiles’ palm.

“I met the Kelpie too.”  


Stiles’ brows spring up.

“Really?”  


Derek nods and shuts his eyes, looking dreamy. He mutters,

“Appeared to me as you.”  


Stiles’ heart skips a beat.

“How’d you know it wasn’t me?”  


“It was a good try,” Derek admits, “but they didn’t get your beauty marks right.”  


Stiles gives a small, shocked laugh and Derek opens his eyes, smiles at him and Stiles is seeing stars. He tugs Derek’s neck down and Derek comes willingly, kissing Stiles softly now, reverently. There’s a mature kind of passion to Derek’s kisses, something far beyond childish obsession or infatuation. His kisses feel like gratitude, like intrigue, like every movement with Stiles is the most intimate thing he’s ever done. 

He reaches between them again, grips Stiles with a strong hand and asks, with his lips close and moving against Stiles’, 

“Can I make you come?”  


“ _Derek_ ,” Stiles whines, like Derek’s hurt him, “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to.”  


Derek smiles like he’s proud of himself and Stiles wants to smack him for that, but instead he finds himself smiling back. 

“You’ve got carte blanche.”  


Derek quirks a bold brow at that, “is that so?”

“Really,” Stiles presses, because he hears that doubt in Derek’s voice, “I mean it - surprise me.”  


Derek chuckles, “surprise you?”

“You heard me, old man,” Stiles teases, “Carte blanche.”  


“Old man, eh?” Derek tests, “I’ll show you old man.”  


In a single swift movement, he grips Stiles by his hips and backs off onto his knees, hoisting Stiles’ waist and legs in the air. Stiles’ thighs are planted on Derek’s shoulders, one of his feet up against the ceiling of the car and the other is curled around Derek’s back, clinging on. Derek smirks at the surprised expression of Stiles’ face and Stiles goes to say something smart at him, but any noise he was planning on making is replaced by an involuntary cross of a moan and a sigh. Derek’s sizable hands are holding his ass with a firmness that speaks to Derek’s restraint and he’s licking Stiles’ sac with a broad tongue.

Stiles’ neck relaxes, his eyes shut and his head lolls to the side while Derek makes him all the warmer. At some point, Derek nuzzles into the space between his sac and his thigh, inhaling at the curls of his dark hair like he’s a drug. It’s so _animal_ , it makes Stiles’ heart jump excitedly. He can’t really tell if he’s lightheaded because air in the car is running out, Derek is rocking his world or he needs medical attention. He distantly thinks he should be more concerned about that, but Derek’s mouth is hot and soft and swallowing him down to the root.

He’s making wanton little noises that he can’t really control and Derek is making them right back. Like bringing Stiles pleasure is getting him off as much as he’s getting Stiles off and _that’s_ a feeling.

Derek is pulling up, has his mouth around the head of Stiles’ cock when he swirls his tongue in this way that forces a loud vocal noise out of Stiles’ throat and has him unintentionally kicking the ceiling of the car. Stiles opens his eyes to see if he’s died and somehow been accepted into Heaven, but instead he sees a werewolf looking devious with his shiny mouth around his cock. 

His cock throbs in Derek’s mouth and Derek rewards him for it by swirling his tongue again. Stiles’ stomach jumps and that same, desperate, “ _Anh_ ,” leaves his mouth without permission and his foot skids across the car top. 

“ _Derek_ ,” Stiles gasps.  


Derek slides off Stiles’ cock, his saliva thick and hot, his eyes lidded and glistening.

“I like that. Don’t stop saying that.”  


Stiles can feel how hot his face is, he knows he must be a deep scarlet, so he nods and doesn’t risk speaking with a voice that will undoubtedly crack. Derek doesn’t hesitate to take him back into the heat of his mouth and Stiles groans with gratitude. 

Derek’s tongue sweeps up and around his length, twists around the head, presses in long stripes along the underside. He moans on Stiles whenever Stiles’ cock bobs or twitches and between the gasps and involuntary vocal noises and curses, Stiles chants Derek’s name.

He feels a familiar swell at the base of his spine and he warns Derek,

“Derek, _Derek_ \- oh God, _oh_ my God, Derek - _Derek_ , Derek - I’m gonna come -”  


Derek slides off him again, leaving a thick coat of drool that makes Stiles feel so craved, so heavily desired that Derek can’t even hide it. He lays Stiles back down across the seats and lines himself back up against him; he takes both of their cocks into his hand, slick and heavy and hot from Derek’s mouth and he thrusts into his hand, running against Stiles.

Both of them groan, Stiles grips onto Derek’s back, tries pulling him closer and thrusting up and into Derek’s hand. 

“ _Derek_ … Derek, oh my God… Derek, _Derek_ ,” Stiles whispers, quickly coming into Derek’s fist.

His come spills over onto his belly, dripping from Derek’s fingers and then Derek comes onto him in ropes. They both ride it out until they’re panting, foreheads pressed together, air and skin so warm it could light a fire.

“I like the way you say my name.”

Stiles laughs, deliriously happy, “I got that feeling.”

Derek leans into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. He kisses Stiles’ cheek, the corner of his mouth and then Stiles kisses Derek’s lips.

And he says a lot into that kiss.

_I want you._

_I need you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._


End file.
